“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” came a murmured question in Freya’s ear, in the midst of a tight hug.

She smiled, pulling herself free of the embrace. “Of course I will! Although you’ve really got to get a computer, or a phone...”

“I knowww,” Hannah sighed, “I’m just used to doing things the tech-free way.” Unlike Freya’s more liberal community, Hannah grew up in an isolated village whose inhabitants had rejected the technological developments of the non-magical world, relying solely upon sorcery to get through life. Hannah had never even heard of phones or laptops until she began attending Hexbourne at the age of eleven, much less used them, so she hadn’t known what she was missing out on. Freya, Juniper and their other friends had become used to writing letters to her over the last seven years, and didn’t expect that to change any time soon, even now she was old enough to leave her village and go somewhere a little less Luddite.

“Don’t worry, I’m working on her,” Juniper said with a grin, wrapping their arm around Hannah’s shoulders.

The friends said their last goodbyes, and Hannah and Juniper swept out of the dining hall, their luggage levitating alongside them. Freya watched fondly, then turned and headed in the opposite direction, back towards her dormitory. Her friends were departing on the first train of the day, shortly after breakfast, while she was on the last, that evening. As such, there was no particular hurry for her to pack - but if she got it over with, she’d have a little time to spend with Emerald, who was on the midday train and was in the midst of her own preparations.

The girlfriends had made plans to reunite as soon as possible after their final departure from Hexbourne. They intended to remain in constant contact through DMs and video calls. And last night, Freya had given Emerald a new rune that they intended to use before parting company, as a farewell gift. Usually she kept the details secret from her plaything, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself revealing how the rune worked and revelling in Emerald’s flustered reaction.

She couldn’t wait to use it. She couldn’t wait to be with her. She’d only seen her half an hour ago when they both came down for breakfast, yet she already ached for her company again. Goddess, I’ve really fallen for her, she thought with a flustered smile. I’d do anything for her. If she were a switch, she could totally own my ass whenever she wanted.

There was a part of her that really liked that idea - the thought of indulging in submission herself was really quite enticing. But Emerald was the subbiest sub to ever sub, so there was pretty much no chance of her ever switching. And Freya was perfectly content with their relationship the way it was, with herself as the dominant Mistress and Emerald as her obedient property.

Exiting the hall, she saw Professor Finn coming in the opposite direction. “Miss Travers,” he said with a lazy smile, nodding at her. “Congratulations on your results - a remarkable, if unsurprising, achievement.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Freya said politely, though her smile was evaporating along with her good humour. She had never been a fan of Finn’s teaching style and overall manner - he had always struck her as vaguely unprofessional, trying to be friends with the teen cliques and slyly helping them to ostracise the less popular students. Emerald’s anecdotes about the Professor pressuring her to act as a guinea pig for his hexes had only reinforced Freya’s negative opinion of him.

“Unusual to see you without your charmless girlfriend,” he continued nonchalantly. “I’d begun to think you and Miss Kane had become joined at the hip.”

Her temper flaring, Freya stopped in her tracks. “Emerald’s not a charmless,” she snapped. “She is a witch, just like your other students. One of the top witches in the school, in fact. And I’m not sure it’s any of your business how much time we spend together. Sir,” she added at the last minute, with the barest hint of lingering civility contrasting her terse words and hostile glare.

Finn seemed unabashed. “Just taking an interest in my students’ lives,” he said calmly. Then he turned and strolled away, robes swishing behind him.

Breathing deeply to quell her rage, Freya resumed her fast trot, hoping to put as much distance between herself and the teacher as she could as fast as she could. Yeah, her first impression of him had been spot on.

She fumed about Finn all the way back to her dormitory, through the common room and up the stairs to her bedroom. His attitude was so damn aggravating - and, sadly, not uncommon. Students of sorcery who proved to have no magical aptitude would face that kind of treatment their whole lives, not just during their time at school. She hated the thought of Emerald being looked down on by other magicians for the rest of her life, even after graduating as one of the top four students of her year. She wished she could do more to help her - she wished she could ensure she’d get the respect she deserved. In all modesty, Freya was an extremely talented witch - but she feared that eradicating bigotry may be beyond her.

With this sobering thought weighing on her as she opened her bedroom door and stepped through, she was wholly unprepared to find herself outside again, the sun beaming down into her face. She reeled sideways, raising a hand to shield her eyes. Whirling around, she saw the door-sized portal shrink and vanish, leaving her with a view of the trees and shrubs of Hexbourne Woods.

In her utter confusion, Freya’s normally sharp mind didn’t have time to process what had happened or why. If she’d had just a second longer, she would have thought to take a defensive stance and muster her magical energies, readying herself to confront whoever had transported her to the forest. But she wasn’t given that luxury.

There was the split-second sound of an electrical crackle behind her. She began to spin round to find the source, but by the time she’d completed the revolution she’d forgotten why it was important. She stared dumbly at the figure standing before her, their cruel smile not troubling her.

Why would it? Everything was fine. There was nothing to worry about.

***

Emerald felt the pull at almost the worst possible moment.

She had just finished packing her belongings, her bags and suitcases arranged neatly by her bedroom door. She’d been expecting Freya to join her at some point, not only to make use of the ‘parting gift’ rune she’d given her last night (the thought of which sent quivers of desperate arousal through her) but also to enchant her luggage for her, making it hover all the way to the train station. She couldn’t wait to see her, and deliver a farewell present of her own, which, she hoped, would help to nullify some of the distance between them - at least for a little while.

Not anticipating her girlfriend’s arrival any time soon, Emerald had gone for a piss. Just as she finished, she felt ice-cold fingers creeping up her spine, twitches and tremors running through her body as it began to move of its accord. “Wha- aww!” she whimpered, realising what was happening as her buttocks lifted from the cold porcelain seat.

It was finally happening. Freya had done what she’d often feared (and frequently fantasised about, while jerking off) - she’d triggered Emerald’s leash rune while she was in a compromising position. And she had no choice but to obey, the irresistible urge to go to her Mistress overriding any considerations about her appearance or dignity. She lacked even the willpower to pull up her panties as she stood up, and they slid off the end of her foot as she padded inexorably towards the bathroom door.

Out of her dorm room she went, down the stairs, into and through the common room, and out the door into the corridors of the main school building, her bare soles slapping rhythmically against the hard stone floor. Her face burning, she glanced around furtively as she walked, compulsively smoothing down her skirt with her palms.

It could be worse, she told herself. At least you’re mostly dressed. And you’re not still peeing.

But this wasn’t much better. One wrong move, or one strong gust of wind, could expose her lack of underwear. She couldn’t help glancing down every few seconds to check she wasn’t on show - she certainly felt like she was. And if she got any harder from this utter humiliation, she soon would be. The bulge in the front of her skirt was becoming alarmingly obvious.

There were mercifully few students and staff wandering the corridors, and none seemed to notice anything untoward about Emerald as she strode steadily onwards. She wondered where she was being taken. This wasn’t the route to Freya’s dormitory. In fact, she realised to her immense apprehension, she was nearing the dining hall. For all she knew her Mistress could still be there, bidding farewell to her longtime friends.

When Emerald neared her seat, Freya would mutter, “Unleashed.” So quietly that no-one would hear her, but it would release Emerald from the rune’s power. She did this all the time, teasing her with the prospect of making her kneel in public. But she always let her go, just in time.

Unless...

Unless she didn’t. Unless she let the invisible magic mark’s power pull her to her knees at Freya’s side, in the middle of the school banquet hall. In public. In front of their classmates, their peers, their friends.

Would she? Could she? They’d discussed it before - Emerald had brought it up, sharing the fantasy simply because it was hot, not because she ever expected Freya to do it. Even though Freya agreed, it was fucking hot...

They probably weren’t going to see any of these people again, to be fair. It wouldn’t matter so much if Emerald made a fool of herself in front of them. There wasn’t really anything to lose... except her dignity. And any of the respect she might’ve gained, from being one of the school’s most accomplished witches and the partner of one of the others...

It’d be so fucking mortifying... She had to hold her skirt down.

She’d just about got herself under control by the time she descended the last set of stairs leading into the dining hall. Breathing heavily, she plodded through the arched entrance and into the vast chamber, passing between long benches that were much less crowded now than they’d been when she’d had her breakfast.

Instead of being drawn in the direction of one of the seventh-form tables, she found herself heading for the exit on the other side of the hall, which led out of the building and onto the field. She blinked in surprise. So Freya wasn’t in the hall, after all. What was she doing outside...?

She wasn’t on the field either. Emerald’s relentless feet took her across the wide green expanse towards the edge of Hexbourne Woods. Before she knew it, she was weaving between the trees, following a path that she wasn’t taking consciously but recognised nonetheless. She and Freya had been this way plenty of times in the past few months - but she’d never been led here by her magical leash before.

She tried to avoid stepping on twigs, or thorny plants, but she didn’t have enough control over her feet. “Ow,” she gasped as she felt something sharp stick into her sole, but her stride remained relentless. She couldn’t stop to check if whatever that was had broken the skin - she couldn’t even slow down. She’d have to ask her Mistress not to send her into the woods while barefoot again - getting stabbed by broken branches was not fun. Freya could cast a healing spell when she finally reached her, but in the meantime she had to endure the pain. It’d even caused her cock to soften a bit - and that was just typical, the biggest potential source of embarrassment disappearing now there was no-one around to see it.

Finally, she emerged into the familiar glade, her and Freya’s favourite spot in the safe area of the forest. She’d lost count of how many times they’d revisited this setting. She was sure other students knew about it, but they’d never seen anyone else there. It was a nice, secluded location for them to spend time together, enjoying each other’s company - and getting up to magical, mind-manipulating mischief.

That must be why Freya had brought her here. To revisit their romantic hideaway, and have one last bout of kinky fun before they left Hexbourne behind. Yes, that had to be it. Emerald’s heart swelled in her chest. What a lovely gesture!

A tremor went through her as she saw her Mistress standing on a low hill nearby, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her, a smirk crossing her stunning face. Emerald felt warmth radiating out of her chest, at once pleased that her girlfriend was excited to see her and squirming inwardly at how powerless she was to resist.

“There’s my little pet,” Freya crowed, as Emerald gratefully sank to the ground before her, her knees nestling into the lush green grass. “Didn’t take as long to get here as I thought. Somebody’s keen!”

Emerald blushed and grinned. “W-well, y’know I couldn’t really stop myse-”

“Shh-shh. No talking unless I say so, dummy,” Freya chided, patting her on the head. Emerald swallowed, her eyes widening, and nodded.

Her owner drew back, looking her over with an expression of relish. “Look at you,” she sniggered. “All helpless and docile. Totally submissive. Totally subservient. It’s your natural place, isn’t it? As an ass-kissing little lackey, obeying your betters. Isn’t that right?”

Emerald stared up at her, biting her lip, dumbstruck, demeaned, and so turned on. Tutting, Freya reached down and flicked her on the forehead. “That question was meant to be answered, idiot.”

Wincing at the unexpected impact, Emerald nonetheless hurriedly replied, “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good toy,” Freya grinned. “Flash on.”

Simmering with arousal, Emerald tugged up her shirt and bra, scrunching them up under her chin, and lifted the front of her skirt. Freya gasped in surprise, then burst out laughing.

“Oh, wow. Going commando today, are we, Emmie? Is that for my benefit?” Before Emerald could figure out whether that needed a response, her owner continued, “Yeah, it must be. Jeez, you really walked all the way across the school with no panties on? What a little slut!”

Emerald forced herself to maintain eye contact, even though Freya’s incisive gaze on her exposed body was mortifying her beyond measure. Crouching down, the blonde witch reached out to cradle Emerald’s cock and balls in the palm of her hand, her pretty face twisted into a wicked leer. “What are these?” she prompted.

“They’re your property, Mistress,” Emerald replied. Repeating the often-spoken mantra came easily to her, even in her thunderstruck state.

“Thaaat’s right,” Freya snickered. “Mine, all mine.”

Emerald squeaked in surprise and discomfort as Freya gave her genitals a squeeze, just slightly harder than she would’ve liked. She frowned, gazing plaintively at her owner. It was her prerogative to treat her body as she wished - it belonged to her, after all - and that included inflicting pain. But she rarely indulged in it.

She’s in some mood today, Emerald rationalised, as her Mistress let go and drew herself upright again. Must want to get it all outta her system before we leave...

Freya abruptly spun around and strode away over the hill, calling out behind her, “Walkies!” Alarmed, Emerald dropped onto her hands and knees and scrambled after her, following her across the glade, the power of the rune pulling her forwards like the force of gravity - impossible to resist, even if she were trying to. Freya sauntered around in no apparent direction, leading her powerless pet along behind her, glancing back over her shoulder and giggling at the urgent, slightly panicked expression on Emerald’s face as she struggled to match her pace on all fours, her bare breasts and stiff dick swinging beneath her.

“Look how turned on you are,” Freya taunted her. “I fucking love it. You’re so funny, pet.”

Emerald’s cheeks were ablaze, but she found herself smiling. She was amusing her Mistress! That made her happy, even while being unbearably humiliated and horny.

“Does puppy want me to take her mind away?” her owner cooed, striding around in a tight circle, which forced Emerald to spin-crawl on the spot to follow her. “Does it wanna be all enthralled and mindless?”

“Y-yes, Mistress,” she stuttered, reasoning that the questions demanded a reply.

“Well then, what are you waiting for? Beg for it, bitch.”

The word stung - it wasn’t one she used very often in her verbal degradation, so Emerald wasn’t as used to hearing it as some others. But she absorbed it like everything else, letting it fuel her creativity and her lust, and began to blurt her usual desperate pleas as she continued crawling along after Freya.

“Please, please, Mistress, take my mind away,” she mewled. “It’s not mine to keep. Nothing is mine, it all belongs to you. You’re the most skilled of sorcerers, and I’m your powerless property. I belong on my knees before you, serving your every whim. I’m your needy, depraved little sex pet, your ass-kissing little lackey, and I’ll do whatever you say, enthralled or not. But I don’t need a mind to be your servant, your slave, your slut. Make me mindless. Make me nothing. Make me your brainless bitch...”

Coming to a halt at last with a loud laugh, Freya turned and raised her ring hand, the gemstone glowing an electric blue. “That was some quality begging,” she sneered, as her slave sank back onto her knees again. “That’s a good little slut, Emmie.”

Emerald had just enough time to think, why does she keep calling me ‘Emmie’? Then the thought was obliterated, along with all her others. Her mind relaxed, as did her beseeching expression, a big dumb grin spreading over her face as she gazed lovingly at her Mistress.

Freya tapped her lower lip, an expression of mock thoughtfulness on her face. “Now, what was that idea I just had? Something you even repeated back to me...?” She gave an exaggerated gasp. “Oh, yes! That was it.”

Turning on the spot, she flipped up the back of her skirt and yanked her panties down. “Kiss my ass.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Needing no further prompting, the enthralled girl leaned forwards and began to make out with her supple buttocks, alternating from one to the other every couple of kisses.

Freya guffawed above her. “That’s right, good lackey. Oh, this is just priceless.”

Her words passed over Emerald’s empty head as she continued to smooch the soft skin as if it were all that mattered - because to her, right now, it was. She couldn’t really register what her girlfriend said. She wasn’t aware of her own throbbing erection, still very much on show. All her attention was on the task she’d been given, and she performed it keenly, dutifully, as best she could.

Until she felt a breeze as Freya’s hand waved past her head - and suddenly her mind was clearing, her awareness returning. She paused for a second, processing what she was doing and how achingly aroused she was.

But Mistress hadn’t told her to stop. So she didn’t.

“Oh, yes, that’s right! Such an obedient slave, keeping on going,” Freya sniggered. Then she abruptly seized Emerald’s hair and yanked her head back, making her gasp with pain and surprise. They hadn’t done much hair-pulling in the past, as far as she could remember. She couldn’t say she minded, though.

Turning around while still holding Emerald’s hair tightly, Freya grinned gleefully down at her. “Look at that pathetic little face,” she cackled. “I thought I’d never tire of it. Seeing you like this, so meek, and submissive, and utterly inferior.”

Emerald quivered in her grasp. So they were going hard with the verbal degradation today, were they? That was good. Well, no, it was awful - but in a way that made her harder, and needier, than ever. She was inferior to Freya. She was her powerless property. It felt so fucking good to hear her say it. It’d be even better if Freya forced her to say it too.

Instead she let go of her hair and stepped back. “Unleashed,” she said in a suddenly businesslike tone. “Get up.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Emerald hurriedly clambered to her feet and stood at attention before her owner.

“Turn around.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

As soon as the submissive had turned to face away, Freya lifted up the back of her skirt and delivered a hearty slap to her buttocks, to which she suppressed a yelp. “Describe how it makes you feel, to be enthralled and dominated,” Freya commanded in a taunting tone. “And please, sweetie, go into detail...”

Emerald gulped. “It... it makes me feel extremely turned on, Mistress,” she stammered, knowing her exposed genitals had already made this pretty obvious. “Even when my - my mind’s been enthralled and I’m not capable of feeling anything, including a-arousal, my body still reacts in ways that signify it.”

“Interesting,” her Mistress said thoughtfully, sounding for all the world like one of those charmless scientists observing the results of an experiment. “And how does it feel when the hex is lifted?”

“Wh-when I remember what I’ve been made to do, and I notice how h-hard I am, I get... very... f-flustered.” She gulped. “It’s... it’s very compelling, being hexed and having my free will stolen and used as a mind-controlled slave. It’s almost... addictive.”

“Is that why you came to me? Asked me to enthral you, all those months ago...?”

“Y-yes, Mistress. I wanted to be enthralled by someone I trusted.”

“Oh yeah?” Freya said in a wry tone, as if her plaything had said something amusing, though she had no idea what. “And how did you ask me? Please, tell me exactly what you said to convince me. Word for word.”

Emerald trembled. She didn’t know why Freya wanted her to recount all of this - she knew it all already. She must just intend for the admissions to make her feel even more humiliated and horny. If that was her plan, it was working.

It wasn’t difficult to remember what she said that Halloween night. She’d committed the words to memory, solidified in her mind as the moment she’d given herself to her girlfriend entirely. She tried to emulate the tone of soft, seductive emotion she had used that night, although it was difficult when she was this discombobulated. “‘I want you to take c-control of me, Freya,’” she recited. “‘I want you to take away m-my mind, my free will... my virginity... my dignity, my personhood. M-make me yours. Not a person, not tonight - just your mindless, entranced p-plaything. Your slave. Your slut - ahh!’” The hard ‘t’ was punctuated by another slap on the ass from Freya, who was using her other hand to grope Emerald’s bare chest. “‘Your doll,’” the submissive continued, trying her best not to be thrown further off balance. “‘Your possession. Your property... Your precious Emerald.’”

She heard Freya laugh - a harsh, disdainful laugh that didn’t suit her at all - as she circled around her, standing in front of her and staring at her with a wistful grin. “Aww. Listen to you. Poor, precious, pathetic little Emerald. You literally begged me to enthral you? To take away your agency and make you my personal fucktoy?”

Emerald nodded, her eyes downcast, totally mortified - and a little confused.

“Amazing. I, I never tire of thinking about how fucking hilarious that is,” Freya taunted. “So much for one of the top witches in the school. ‘Superior knowledge’ - yeah, right. You’ve always tried to pretend that your smarts make up for your magical incompetence, but how smart can you be if you’d just... hand yourself over to me, like this?”

Now she met her girlfriend’s eyes, frowning. Something was off about this. These were buttons Freya usually only pressed lightly, and now she was jabbing at them with unprecedented force. It wasn’t like her. It felt... hurtful. In a way that was creeping close to the boundary of Emerald’s comfort level.

“I guess you’re actually pretty stupid, huh?” Freya mused, sneering at her. “And more importantly, you’re weak. So weak, you have to rely on someone else to look after you. To protect you. To control you.” Her tone was turning increasingly derisive - even cruel. “Probably started out because you didn’t have any magic, so you were looking for a saviour. Somehow, your perverted mind got it all twisted into a fetish along the way. Dumb little charmless whore.”

Emerald flinched as if she’d been struck. That was a word Freya had never used to describe her before, even amidst their most intense, brutal bouts of degradation.

‘Charmless’.

The word used to refer to non-magical humans. It wasn’t meant as a derogatory term, but it could be used as one when applied to witches like herself - those with all a sorcerer’s heritage and knowledge, but none of the ability. Freya had never thrown it at her before, knowing how insecure she was about her lack of magical power.

It was too much. Emerald had practically no limits in how her Mistress could use and abuse her - but this was one of them. And more than anything else, she didn’t understand why she would knowingly violate it. What was going on with her? Was she upset about something? Was this her sadness over their imminent separation, coming out as anger and cruelty?

She had to speak up, whatever the reason. She wasn’t OK with this.

“M-Mi- Fre-” she stuttered.

The blonde witch grabbed Emerald by the face, sinking her fingers into her cheeks. “I didn’t tell you to speak, did I, bitch?” she snarled.

Emerald stared at her in shock, her eyes wide, shaky breaths escaping her smushed lips. She was too taken aback, too bewildered and frightened, to respond - or to figure out if Freya even wanted a response. What the fuck was happening...?

Freya gave a satisfied, sadistic smile. “That’s better. Stupid cow.” Still gripping her face, she gave her a hard slap across the tits. Emerald whimpered, her eyes welling up with tears. “Goddess - you really thought I cared about you, didn’t you?” the sorceress snickered. “You thought I was your friend. Maybe you even thought I loved you!” She leaned in close, her face inches from Emerald’s. “Did you, Emmie? Did you love me?”

Emerald couldn’t believe this was happening. Neither of them had ever professed their true feelings before, and now Freya was trying to force it out of her in the meanest way possible. And worse, all her submissive instincts were compelling her to reply - to bare her soul to her owner, even when she was treating her so appallingly.

Should she just give in, yield to the will of her Mistress? Freya owned her. She was her property, to do with as she wished. But she never thought she’d go this far, be so callous and contemptuous... What should she do?

“Well? Did you? Answer me,” Freya snapped.

“Yrs, Mrstrss,” Emerald found herself whispering, through her misshapen mouth.

“Priceless!” Finally releasing her face, Freya drew back and gave an over-the-top belly laugh that felt to Emerald like a punch in the stomach. The tears brimming in her eyes burst free and started to stream down her face.

“Oh man, that’s just too funny,” Freya hooted. “Wow... You really signed up to be my property, my stupid little sex doll, thinking I could ever respect someone like that. Thinking I could ever love someone like that.” Seeming to finally notice Emerald’s desolate expression, she gave a pout of mock sympathy. “Dawww, what’s the matter, precious? Aren’t we having fun any more?”

Emerald couldn’t find her voice. She didn’t feel like she could move from the spot. She could barely remember to breathe, a tightness clutching her chest in a vice grip. All she could do was stand there and weep silently in front of her vindictive, spiteful, merciless Mistress, and wonder what the fuck was going on.

“What a miserable little freak,” Freya jeered, stepping close and grabbing Emerald’s exposed nipples, twisting them until she cried out. “You really aren’t good for anything except being property,” she hissed, seizing her hair and violently nodding her head up and down. “My cuntlicker. My cocksleeve. My stupid little charmless fucktoy.” She planted her hands on Emerald’s shoulders and pushed her back to her knees, yanked her by the hair onto all fours, and sat down on her back.

Unbound by the rune magic, Emerald could’ve struggled free. But she was paralysed by shock, and heartbreak. She found herself helplessly holding the pose, stuck on her hands and knees as Freya’s bench. Her blood pounded in her ears. Tears continued to fall from her face, blurring her vision. Her breath was coming shorter and sharper by the second. She was on the verge of a panic attack.

It wasn’t even that Freya was being cruel to her - cruelty, in general, brought her pleasure. It was the specific kind of cruelty. The dismissive, disdainful way she was treating her, like she truly didn’t care about her at all. More than that - like she actually detested her. Using all her insecurities about her lack of magic, her intellect, her deepest fears of what her lust for being enthralled said about her as a person... It went far beyond the harsh treatment of a Mistress - Freya’s usual dominance - and into outright, targeted, sadistic bullying.

She’d called her a charmless. She’d mocked her for her feelings, and ruthlessly kink-shamed her.

She’d made her profess her love for her, and then thrown it back in her face.

She couldn’t... This was... why, Goddess? Why, Mistress? Why?!

“I can’t tell you how much I’d been looking forward to this moment,” she heard Freya sigh above her. “All these months, waiting for you to be fully, willingly under my heel, so you wouldn’t put up even a little bit of a fight. Not that you could fight me, but... it’s just so much better knowing you handed yourself to me - body, mind, heart and soul - never realising what I was gonna do to you!” She clapped her hands together giddily. “It’s glorious! Worked out just how I planned it.”

Emerald’s mouth hung open. Even hearing the words being thrown at her so viciously, it was still so hard to believe what they inferred. Was it really true? Had Freya never really cared about her? Had she really just been using her, stringing her along all this time...?

But she stood up for her against Livi, helped her defeat and humble her. She’d spent almost every day for the last six months with her. Been her date to the Halloween party... Invited her to spend Christmas with her family, and then came to hers for New Year...

She said they were going to live together after graduation. She said she was going to keep her, look after her, take care of her...

How could all of that have been a lie?

How could it not have meant anything? Was Freya really that evil?

Emerald wished she could disbelieve what was happening. She wished she could convince herself that it wasn’t Freya - that it was someone else wearing a glamour. But she smelled the same. And the rune had pulled Emerald right to her. It was no disguise.

It was her. It was all her. She had played her for a fool, all these months.

A fresh waterfall of tears fell from Emerald’s eyes. “Why?” She’d meant to shout the word, but it came out as a plaintive sob instead.

“Why? Why did I do all this? I’ll tell you why, Emmie.”

Freya finally stood up, and Emerald fell sideways onto her butt and scrambled away, praying she would see some remorse or concern on her girlfriend’s face. All she saw was a cold, vindictive sneer.

Walking up close to her, Freya crouched down and leaned in towards her ear, as if confiding a secret. “Because... it’s fun,” she hissed, grinning savagely right in Emerald’s face. “So, so much fun, tricking you for all this time. Making you fall head over heels, and give up your free will to me, before showing you just how fucking stupid you’d been.”

She stood up again. “Charmless freak,” she spat. “You’d have been thrown out of this school years ago, but you always had your big brain to fall back on. Aceing all the tests, proving you knew magic as well as anyone, even though you couldn’t fucking use it.” Freya wasn’t smiling any more. She was hissing her insults through gritted teeth, her eyes blazing with hatred. Emerald shrank and squirmed even more under her furious glare. “You never deserved to be here. They only let you stay because of your heritage, and your intelligence. And now, you can’t even count on that. How could you ever call yourself smart, when you fell for my act hook, line and sinker? For months?”

Emerald shuddered miserably. She couldn’t argue with that. She was thinking the exact same thing.

She was a dumb little whore who wanted so badly to be controlled, she’d given herself to the first person who’d offered, never seeing the true extent of her evil. Until it was far, far too late.

“I just wanted you to have all that in your head, Emmie, before I clear it out,” Freya said offhandedly. “I want your last thoughts to be about what a fucking stupid whore you are. Just a brainless, charmless cuntlicker who gave yourself to someone who hates you, and let her use you up until she got sick of you. Because that’s exactly what happened.”

Moving closer once again, her hand reached down and cradled Emerald’s soaked face, a perfect imitation of the affection she’d shown before today - which felt like more mockery now. “Oh, sweetie,” she said softly. “You know something - in a perfect world, I’d have done all this in the dining hall, in front of everyone. Humiliate you, ruin your reputation - such as it is - forever.”

Emerald shuddered at the thought of that. She’d fantasised about it so often - but the idea of being subjected to this treatment in front of the entire school was nauseating.

“But it wouldn’t be smart, given what I’m going to do with you,” Freya concluded, rising upright again. “Wouldn’t want to draw that much attention to you, since this is the last time anyone’s gonna see you.”

“Wh-what?” Emerald snivelled, trying to focus her blurred gaze on her owner.

An utterly malevolent smile spread across Freya’s face. Gesturing at their surroundings, she continued, her tone calm and even, “Why d’you think I brought you here, brainbox?”

Ice flowed through Emerald’s veins as the meaning of Freya’s words dawned on her. “No,” she whispered, horrified.

“Of course, I could keep you,” the witch mused. “Keep using you as my slave, slap you around, humiliate you publicly... Got to admit, it’s very tempting! But if I’m completely honest... I just don’t want to have to see your stupid face any more. And I don’t see why anyone else should have to, either.”

Her words were a fresh dagger through Emerald’s heart. Freya hadn’t just tricked her, debased her, lowered her to the status of a slave - of property - all the while never having an ounce of real love for her. Even worse, she was now throwing her away, discarding her like a sock with a hole in it.

She had failed as property. And that made her truly, utterly worthless.

Freya raised her ring hand, the blue gemstone beginning to glow once more.

“No no, Freya, please,” Emerald wailed frantically, raising her hands in a defensive gesture - despite knowing that she couldn’t actually defend herself against her former Mistress’ magic, powerless, charmless loser that she was.

“Goodbye, Emerald,” Freya chuckled. “I won’t miss you.”

Seeing the spell surge forth from the mystical jewel, and knowing there was nothing she could do to deflect it, Emerald dropped her hands to her sides in surrender. At this point, she almost welcomed it. She wanted to be freed from her suffering. To never have to think about how completely and utterly Freya had destroyed her. Her image and her self-esteem (such as they were), her trust, her heart... All gone, leaving a yawning void of pain and misery within her. She might as well lose her mind too. At least then she’d be ignorant to her own plight.

So when she felt the hex sweep away her thoughts, and her deep grief, she embraced it, giving herself over to blank oblivion.

When Freya had her stand up, her face was still wet with tears, but she was smiling dazedly. It was all alright now. She felt perfectly fine.

The wicked witch pointed past Emerald, at the tree line behind them. “Walk, and keep walking,” she told her, appearing overcome with almost orgasmic glee as she gave the command.

“Yes, Mistress.”

And off Emerald went, between the two nearest trees, striding purposefully forwards.

Towards the Dark Woods.

***

If Emerald had happened to glance to her left, and downwards, as she’d crossed the border into the woods, she would have seen a body slumped behind the nearest tree, obscured from sight. But her entranced mind was focused only on obeying Freya’s command, and so she didn’t look.

Freya watched her go with wild eyes and a demented grin. But once Emerald had vanished into the midst of the trees, Freya’s face suddenly went slack, her eyes glazing over, as blank and placid as her girlfriend.

Moments later, the hidden body jerked to life, scrambling upright and strolling towards Freya. As she did so, two other figures stepped out from behind more trees, further along the tree line.

“That was fucking amazing,” Jemma cackled.

“Dude, I can’t believe you actually pulled it off,” Georgie gasped. “I felt for sure that little nerd would twig what was going on.”

“Please,” Livi snorted. “I’ve been working on this plan for months, practicing astral projection and my ‘evil Freya’ character, getting all the info I needed. Nothing was gonna go wrong. It never even crossed poor little Emmie’s mind that her stuck-up bitch girlfriend wasn’t really the one doing all that to her.”

Reaching out, she grabbed Freya by the face - in just the same way she’d grabbed Emerald, while inhabiting Freya’s body - and waggled her head from side to side. “That was beyond satisfying,” she sniggered. “The perfect revenge - best served six months later, right when they least expect it.”

“Yeah, no-one’s gonna figure out what happened to her til it’s way too late,” Jemma mused. “Once we get rid of her stuff, they’ll all assume she just left on the train like she was meant to.”

Livi grinned malignantly. “Yep. That’s why it had to be now, after all. Last possible moment.”

“So, what do we do with her?” Georgie asked.

“Oh, the same,” Livi said blithely. “She’s going into the Dark Woods, never to be seen again, just like her bottom bitch.”

Then she smiled that evil smile of hers once again, tightening her grip on the enthralled Freya’s face and relishing her lack of reaction. “But I don’t see why we can’t have a little more fun with her first...”